


Howl

by serendipitee



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Songfic, Werewolf!Niall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 22:50:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitee/pseuds/serendipitee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> if you could only see the beast you've made of me</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Howl

**Author's Note:**

> Title and lyrics included from Florence + The Machine's "Howl".

_if you could only see_

_the beast you’ve made of me_

_i held it in, but now it seems you’ve set it running free._

x

When Niall wakes up in the middle of the woods with only a blanket of breathtakingly cold air suffocating him, the first thing he thinks about isn’t why he’s there.  He doesn’t worry about the definite smell of blood on the air, or how that scent is making his teeth grind.  He doesn’t wonder about what that shuddering in his spine is, or why his bones feel like they’ve been cracked and reset, cracked and reset, cracked and reset over and over.  He doesn’t think about the mouldering smell that’s just this side of absolutely horrendous, or why he can tell that the moon is setting.

His entire mind, every single thread and tendril of his consciousness, is wrapping tight around something, coiling lithe arms around a warm, familiar body.  He thinks about sliding lips and the sounds of low swears, and he remembers his name when his mind pulls it out of that perfect mouth.  He feels heat heat heat and it’s everywhere, burning in every pore, alight in every single cell, singeing everything to a charred bit of nothingness.  He licks his teeth and can even taste him, warm skin and dirty words and adoration and love.  He can see him in the distance, long legs and mussy hair and pinkened lips, green eyes slicing through fog and distance and the slur of almost-consciousness and stabbing, cutting through flesh to stop at the hilt in Niall’s heart.

He thinks about one single, all-important, all-consuming thing.

He thinks about Harry.

x

_screaming in the dark_

_i howl when we’re apart_

_drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart_

x

_It started the same way young love always does.  There’s a pinpoint of light in the darkening sky that you don’t really notice until the night completely falls, sending everything else into shadows.  That’s when you can see the shine._

_Harry always noticed Niall’s shine.  It was practically impossible not to.  If Harry was a star like the tabloids said in their sickening admiration, then Niall was the sun.  He was effervescent and too bright to stare at for very long.  He was blinding.  He was joy._

_But when the sun sets, the stars cast off their cloaks, twinkling and shimmering beautifully in the dark. That was when Niall noticed Harry.  When all was said and done, and the sun had gone down, Harry was still there, as he had been the entire time.  He’d been there the whole time, even when Niall couldn’t see him in the light.  He was laughter and he was love._

_They came together.  They were a supernova._

Niall keens highly, loudly, and it hurts his ears.  It sounds so animalistic that he’s sure for a second that it couldn’t have been him, but the trees around him are silent, devoid of any song or scratch of claws.  There’s pine needles sticking into his skin, and it’s decided.

He has to get up.  

His entire body protests, head swimming as the lad stands, and right now the only real thing keeping him standing is the creature that’s swallowed his thoughts.  Harry is pulling him up, laughing at Niall’s hesitation, and smiling that ridiculous twinkly smile.

Niall knows, somewhere in the back of his mind or from the achiness in his veins, that Harry isn’t home.  He was gone for the month, doing something or other with recording and producing the album with Simon while the rest of the lads stayed home.

He always misses the boy acutely when he’s gone, but for some reason, this time is different.  This time, every hair on his body is coming to attention, every molecule electrified with desperation.  He needs Harry, and he needs him right now.  He doesn’t ask why, and he doesn’t ask how.  He just starts walking, one unsteady foot in front of the other.

x

_now there’s no holding back_

_i’m making to attack_

_my blood is singing with your voice, i want to pour it out_

x

The next thing he knows, he’s running.

_They exploded when they were together, sending bits of light and stardust in every direction.  Niall lit up the days, and Harry burned through the nights._

Niall pushes his feet harder into the rain-softened ground.  His legs cut through the air with zero resistance, and he’s going faster than he’s ever gone.

_Niall was panting hard into the air in his darkened bedroom as Harry’s mouth marked a simmering trail down his neck, the younger boy’s nimble fingers weaving into Niall’s hair and tracking over his shirt collar and tracing down to the hem at the bottom._

_His hands slipped silently underneath Niall’s tee, but it felt like an earthquake had come to hit him.  No one had touched him like this in a long time.  And he was suddenly stricken with embarassment—his body had pudgy parts that hands needn’t encounter, especially not hands as perfect as Harry’s._

_He turned his face away, cheeks burning with shame, and Harry stopped his fingers, pulled his scalding lips away. “Ni?”_

_“Don’t touch my stomach.”  It came out a little snappier than he intended, save for the end.  At the end, Niall could hear the vulnerability in his own voice and cursed it.  He could tell by the look in Harry’s eyes, made the color of the forest in the dim light that creeped through Niall’s curtains, that he heard it, too._

_The green orbs staring back at him changed color, turning soft and unbearably understanding.  They lightened a few shades, and Harry just blinked down at him, slowly and calmly, before pressing the gentlest of kisses to Niall’s lips.  He murmured something, and then moved down Niall’s body to peel the bottom of his tee shirt up.  He kissed the skin below Niall’s bellybutton and murmured again._

_So it went.  Harry would go through every single part of Niall’s body that night, leaving a kiss wherever he went, and whisper something against Niall’s too-hot skin._

_“You’re beautiful.”_

_And for the first time in his whole life, he believed it._

Niall’s burning against the cold, sprinting through the forest, leaving puffs of steaming breath and silence in the trees in his wake.  The only thing he can hear is his footsteps, slamming at the same rate as his heart into the darkly painted leaves and the dirt.  The trees—an oak, an elm, a spruce, a maple—zoom past in his peripheral vision, and instead of seeming foreign to him, Niall felt like he was amongst old friends, like they would save a grin for him, or pat him on the back, or laugh with him any second.  He felt like he knew every inch of these woods.  He weaves around the battered black trunks, noticing marks of claws and the smells of animals heavy and solid in the air.

x

_the saints can’t help me now_

_the ropes have been unbound_

_i hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallowed ground_

x

A sound unlike anything he has ever heard leaves his lips, a snarl of pure, hateful fury.   _Too far._   He was still too far away.  His feet pick up faster, now barely touching the ground.  He’s flying.

And Harry’s still ahead of him, grinning and beckoning him forward, the smell of his skin tickling the inside of Niall’s head, teasing.  

He’s never wanted anything so badly.

_Niall kissed Harry for the first time the night of his nineteenth birthday.  The lads had taken the Irish boy out much the same way they had the year before, give or take a couple of gallons of alcohol, and it was no surprise that it took being drunk for the two to finally get their act together._

_Harry was quiet and flushed for a lot of the night, surprisingly enough.  The boy wasn’t trying to go at the Niall issue like he had for other conquests; he couldn’t.  This was one of his best friends.  Pouncing on him like a sexually-deprived teenager (even if that was what they both were) was not going to work._

_Instead, he waited.  He waited until the boys had gone home (Liam with Danielle, Zayn and Louis together with cheeky winks) and Niall was giggling adorably stupidly and pouring them shots._

_“To you,” Harry said, tipping the slim shotglass in the blonde’s direction.  Niall flushed prettily and muttered a thanks.  The vodka smouldered in the back of his throat, but somehow it did nothing to get rid of Harry’s nerves.  He watched Niall swallow his shot with a wince and grinned as the Irishman cursed._

_This was it. “Niall,” Harry lilted, a little too lightly to be nonchalant, “I don’t think I gave you my present.”_

_Niall’s eyebrows scrunched. “Yeah, you did.  You gave me a—”_

_“I know.”  Harry cut him off. “I meant this.”  And he kissed Niall._

_Niall melted into it, and Harry melted into Niall.  But if there’s anything you can count on Niall for, it’s a laugh.  He chuckled into Harry’s lips and pulled away far enough to lean his forehead against Harry’s, their hair contrasting against each other’s. “That was the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.”_

_Harry laughed and his eyes glittered as he pulled Niall’s lips back to his._

x

_be careful of the curse_

_that falls on young lovers_

x

Niall is growling, now he knows.  He’s snarling and gnashing his teeth and tasting Harry on his tongue.  He needs.   There’s a huge hole somewhere south of his heart and all of his skin is burning, like it’s too small for his bones, like he’s been doused in acid.  His hands pull in odd ways, clenching around air.  There’s blood on his feet and in the air.  He can taste it. 

And he can taste Harry.

x

_starts so soft and sweet_

_then turns them to hunters_

x

“Niall?”

_Finally._

Niall pulls his boyfriend close, hands around hips, and flashes his teeth before sinking them gently into Harry’s bottom lip.  His heart howls in pleasure.


End file.
